CHAPTER TEN WHO WILL GO INTO THE STABLE（第2/3页）

Then a most surprising thing happened. Ginger the Cat said in a cool，clear voice，not at all as if he was excited，“I’ll go in，if you like.”

Every creature turned and fixed its eyes on the Cat.“Mark their subtleties，Sire，”said Poggin to the King.“This cursed cat is in the plot，in the very centre of it. Whatever is in the stable will not hurt him，I’ll be bound. Then Ginger will come out again and say that he has seen some wonder.”

But Tirian had no time to answer him. The Ape was calling the Cat to come forward.“Ho-ho!”said the Ape.“So you，a pert Puss，would look upon him face to face. Come on，then! I’ll open the door for you. Don’t blame me if he scares the whiskers off your face. That’s your affair.”

And the Cat got up and came out of its place in the crowd， walking primly and daintily，with its tail in the air，not one hair on its sleek coat out of place. It came on till it had passed the fire and was so close that Tirian，from where he stood with his shoulder against the end-wall of the stable，could look right into its face. Its big green eyes never blinked. (“Cool as a cucumber，”muttered Eustace.“It knows it has nothing to fear.”) The Ape，chuckling and making faces，shuttled across beside the Cat：put up his paw： drew the bolt and opened the door. Tirian thought he could hear the Cat purring as it walked into the dark doorway．

“Aii-aii-aouwee!-”The most horrible caterwaul you ever heard made everyone jump. You have been wakened yourself by cats quarrelling or making love on the roof in the middle of the night：you know the sound．

This was worse. The Ape was knocked head over heels by Ginger coming back out of the stable at top speed. If you had not known he was a cat，you might have thought he was a ginger-coloured streak of lightning. He shot across the open grass，back into the crowd. No one wants to meet a cat in that state. You could see animals getting out of his way to left and right. He dashed up a tree，whisked around，and hung head downwards. His tail was bristled out till it was nearly as thick as his whole body：his eyes were like saucers of green fire：along his back every single hair stood on end．

“I’d give my beard，”whispered Poggin，“to know whether that brute is only acting or whether it has really found something in there that frightened it!”

“Peace，friend，”said Tirian，for the Captain and the Ape were also whispering and he wanted to hear what they said. He did not succeed，except that he heard the Ape once more whimpering“My head，my head，”but he got the idea that those two were almost as puzzled by the cat’s behaviour as himself．

“Now，Ginger，”said the Captain.“Enough of that noise. Tell them what thou hast seen.”

“Aii-Aii-Aaow-Awah，”screamed the Cat．

“Art thou not called a Talking Beast ？”said the Captain.“Then hold thy devilish noise and talk.”

What followed was rather horrible. Tirian felt quite certain (and so did the others) that the Cat was trying to say something：but nothing came out of his mouth except the ordinary，ugly cat-noises you might hear from any angry or frightened old Tom in a backyard in England. And the longer he caterwauled the less like a Talking Beast he looked. Uneasy whimperings and little sharp squeals broke out from among the other Animals．

“Look，look!”said the voice of the Bear.“It can’t talk. It has forgotten how to talk! It has gone back to being a dumb beast. Look at its face.”Everyone saw that it was true. And then the greatest terror of all fell upon those Narnians. For every one of them had been taught-when only a chick or a puppy or a cub-how Aslan at the beginning of the world had turned the beasts of Narnia into Talking Beasts and warned them that if they weren’t good they might one day be turned back again and be like the poor witless animals one meets in other countries.“And now it is coming upon us，”they moaned．

“Mercy! Mercy!”wailed the Beasts.“Spare us，Lord Shift， stand between us and Aslan，you must always go in and speak to him for us. We daren’t，we daren’t.”

Ginger disappeared further up into the tree. No one ever saw him again．

Tirian stood with his hand on his sword-hilt and his head bowed. He was dazed with the horrors of that night. Sometimes he thought it would be best to draw his sword at once and rush upon the Calormenes：then next moment he thought it would be better to wait and see what new turn affairs might take. And now a new turn came．

“My Father，”came a clear，ringing voice from the left of the crowd. Tirian knew at once that it was one of the Calormenes speaking，for in The Tisroc’s army the common soldiers call the officers“My Master”but the officers call their senior officers“My Father”. Jill and Eustace didn’t know this but，after looking this way and that，they saw the speaker，for of course people at the sides of the crowd were easier to see than people in the middle where the glare of the fire made all beyond it look rather black. He was young and tall and slender，and even rather beautiful in the dark，haughty，Calormene way．